Triple Stop Subway
by Shot Through Quiver
Summary: Love wasn't going to come his way. That was something Blair was sure of. But life has an annoying way of messing with you when you're at your lowest point.
1. Kiss the Dirt

A man in a stunning black three-piece suit walked slowly along the edge of grimy Liberty Pier in heavily polluted Castelia City. Behind him, skyscrapers gradually lit up, ushering in the time of the night, when the biggest city in Unova became something else entirely different. The man couldn't have cared less about the city behind him, or anything else for that matter; he wanted to get away from it all. The hem of his black dress pants dragged along the wet and slimy floor of the pier; it was clear that nothing had landed in this pier for a _very _long time.

Only once had any ship set forth into the turbulent waters and the man, Blair Robicheaux, walking on the pier had been on it. It had docked on Liberty Island where he had caught the Victory Pokemon, Victini.

It seemed so long ago, almost ten years ago, when he was on his own Pokemon journey, travelling the world and becoming the Champion of Unova. Blair sighed, and dragged his expensive leather dress shoes against the mislaid vomit-colored concrete. He would have to be going now, but all Blair wanted to do was fall directly into the murky, polluted water and sink to the sandy bottom. He was seriously contemplating this opportunity when a homeless man from the other side of the pier came and stood next to him, shivering in the early winter wind.

It was obvious that he was asking for money, and Blair sighed once, fishing deep in his silk pockets for some loose change. Instead, he found his thick leather wallet, filled to the brim with hundreds of Pokedollars, and tossed it directly into the man's large and calloused hands. The man smiled, crow's feet deepening, showing a wide smile full of black, stained teeth, worn out from years of smoking cigarettes.

"May Arceus bless you, son." The man said slowly and walked away to the other side of the pier to join a group of homeless men sitting around a lit trash can. Blair averted his chocolate brown eyes to the city skyline and sighed once. He would have to get back to the heart of the city now. Running his long and nimble fingers through his chocolate colored hair, Blair Robicheaux moved stealthily into the night, heading towards the wondrous lit buildings, as silent as a shadow.

Blair passed by many things through the night, gangs thronging near alleyways, just begging for cops to show up, clubs finally opening, bass thumping and guitars wailing. He was a shadow moving through Narrow Street, passing through the rundown side of the city, with its old brownstones and ancient, withering trees. He heard many things as well; a girl groaning with delight through an open window, a stray Herdier howling towards the clouded moon high in the sky, a gunshot ricocheting off of something metal, producing a sharp tinging noise not far from him.

Blair knew better than to follow this path; it was nearing that time of night when odd things happened, evident by the troves and troves of Missing Person flyers hung throughout the city. When someone went through here during the wee hours of the night, it was a miracle if they went home without a single scratch. But Blair couldn't care less. Life was taking its toll on him and he wanted it to end.

Blair had finally approached "The Triple C" (Castelia City Center) and gazed solemnly into the clear waters of the fountain. He was _so _close; it was almost like the cosmos were trying to tell him something. Castelia Street was only thirty paces away, about half a minute, but it would be the longest and most excruciating half minute he would have ever endured in his life. Sighing to himself, he began to redo his tie while walking towards the only fully lit building on Castelia Street.

Clammy hands pushing against cold air-conditioned glass lobby doors, Blair wended through the plushy sofas and chairs to the lobby front desk. A petite and perky woman with a bun smiled widely, eyes silently assessing him up and down, stopping in certain places a bit too long.

"What are you doing out so late looking so nice?" the woman purred, red lips barely containing her mouth full of perfect pearly whites. She didn't seem that much older than Blair (who was twenty five); she was maybe twenty six or twenty seven.

"Nothing much, ma'am. I'm here for the wedding on the thirteenth floor." The woman's jaw clenched ever so slightly and she spoke again in a voice not as sweet and happy as before.

"Don't call me ma'am," she spat out at a bullet-fast rate, "It makes me feel old. Call me Sherry."

Blair said nothing. He realized that Sherry was one of those self-obsessed, image-concerned women that often traipsed through Castelia City, stealing money from rich men using their charming words and curvaceous bodies. But Blair knew better.

"So, Sherry, right, which elevator do I take?" Blair asked, showing absolutely no attention to Sherry in any sort of romantic manner.

Sherry imperceptibly rolled her eyes and pointed one sharply filed purple nail towards the elevator closest to her left. "Press the fifth button." She then turned her attention to her Transceiver, tapped out something quickly and clicked her tongue.

Shoes muffled against the thick carpeted floor of the elevator, Blair punched the fifth button (or what he _thought _was the fifth button) and waited for that familiar lurch in the stomach and clatter of chains that meant that the elevator was moving up. Blair was feeling sweaty and congested, even though he was the only one in the elevator, probably because of what he was about to encounter on the thirteenth floor. It didn't help that thirteen was an unlucky number.

The elevator dinged pleasantly and the metal door swept open like a curtain to the sight of a wedding taking place. There was an orchestra playing sweet, romantic sounding music and the mumbling of the priest reciting the sacred vows. Blair was late. He moved silently through the aisle into the plushy seat next to Cheren and Bianca in the second row.

"Why are you so late, Blair? The ceremony started twenty minutes ago!" Bianca hissed, adjusting her silver silk dress nervously around her body.

"Blair, you should have been here on time; it's the least you could have done for your ex-girlfriend. She was getting pretty tense." Cheren said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his handkerchief, something he did whenever he was nervous or concerned.

Blair couldn't bring himself to say anything. He could only stare morosely at the ornate carpeted floor underneath his chair until Bianca pinched him hard in the side to tell him to look up at the final moments of the ceremony.

There was a wooden arch covered with ivy at the front of the large room, underneath which Clay was standing (who knew he was a certified priest?) with Elesa and that fire-headed Elite Four Member from Sinnoh in front of him.

Elesa was wearing a simple, strapless, white dress that fell all the way down to her heels and was adorned with beige lace. It was a classic wedding dress that you could almost find in any bridal store, but Blair noticed something unusual that made him smile wistfully. There was a long slit down the right side of the dress, all the way from the bottom of her waist to her feet. That was Elesa's style; taking something classic and "screwing it up" (as she proclaimed) into something completely different. Blair had to admit that her method worked; she looked wonderful.

Her toned and thin right leg was showing and a shiver went up Blair's spine. It had been a _long _time since he had seen Elesa in a dress like this; it had generally been an absurd amount oftime since he had seen her at all, almost a year and a half.

Elesa looked positively jubilant, a small smile creeping across her face like the ivy behind her. She seemed to notice Blair in the audience and she stiffened up a bit, her smile seeming to suddenly be plastered on her face. It still seemed to Blair that things were tense between the both of them.

Flint (Blair finally remembered his name from the wedding invitation which he had promptly torn and burned using Hydreigon's Flamethrower), though, on the other hand, looked constipated and just generally sweaty, occasionally pulling at his collar and repeating whatever words Clay said out loud. He was in a black pinstriped suit with a red tie and black leather shoes. Honestly, Flint looked like he would rather be out training than standing here getting married to some blond chick.

Clay's voice rumbled loudly through the room.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Flint looked more relaxed now, and with a flourish, he picked up Elesa by the waist and twirled once, kissing her hungrily. The whole crowd of people immediately stood up and started either clapping, hooting, or whistling. Blair was the only one sitting, still staring at Flint kissing Elesa, thinking.

_You may now kiss the bride._

Those words should have been his; he should have been up there instead of Flint, with Cheren as his best man instead of Volkner, _he _should have kissed Elesa. Instead, he was sitting on a plushy chair, nowhere close to the altar, with those same six words bouncing around in his head like a rubber beach ball.

_You may now kiss the bride._

_You may kiss the bride._

_You may now kiss the bride._

_You may now kiss the dirt._

_**Fin. **_

**A/N: The age factor of this seems a bit weird to me, so I broke it down in this diagram (I'm a freak like that) so it eventually made sense. So Blair was fifteen when he started his journey, making him twenty five now, making Sherry older (she's twenty seven). So when Blair was fifteen, Elesa was twenty. That makes Elesa, what, thirty, now? Flint is thirty two and Cheren and Bianca are both twenty six. I just felt like making them older. And why Flint? I don't honestly know.**

**This is my first fanfiction, so please bear with me. I'm not the best at writing, but after all, you can't start out amazing, you just have to get there. So yes, I am hoping to improve.**

**This story was based on an amazing movie I watched and will reveal at the end of this story (which will hopefully end in the near future!). You guys will most probably not have watched it, since it's in a different language than English, so hopefully, I will inspire you to watch this movie. **

**Just so you know, Pokemon Black 2 and White 2 have nothing to do with this story. None of the characters will be included in this story unless I mention it in the author's note. Some of the settings will have Pokemon Black 2 and White 2 aspects in it, such as Castelia's City new Alley and harbors. If you want a source, just go to Serebii's Pokearth!**

**Read and Review! Hopefully (since it's summer) I will have the following chapter uploaded next week!**

**-Shot Through Quiver **


	2. Heartbreak and Stolen Cars

Second chapter up, contains a bit of language.

After editing this, I realized how much I love Sherry.

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

And here we go.

* * *

Blair kissed her once on her beautiful, full crimson lips.

It was an innocent kiss, one of young love, something Blair didn't want his kiss to mean. He wanted his kiss to show that he cared for her, _craved _for her. Blair wanted it to show all the longing he had for her, the feelings that still remained for her.

But it didn't. It just seemed like a haphazardly placed elementary school kiss.

He pulled back quickly, releasing his fingers cupping her delicate face. Elesa could only stare back coldly, her icy blue eyes boring deep into Blair's chocolate brown ones. Blair could see tears threatening to brim over, but they were quickly vanquished by a quick blink of her eyes. She looked away into the fancy and gilded, mirror of the powder room.

"I just wanted you to know, Elesa. Before I left."

Elesa coughed once, an easy alibi for a strangled cry, and pointed to the door behind him with perfectly manicured white fingernails. Blair didn't move at all.

"Elesa, just say something. Please." Blair pleaded, stepping forward until an outstretched hand stopped him in the chest.

"You want me to say something? Just get out. Go." Elesa snapped, eyes flashing violently.

"Elesa." Blair pleaded again, but was cut off suddenly by a wave of the hand and a snort, something he would have never heard from Elesa.

"Didn't you hear me before? Just get out. Haven't you done enough to ruin my wedding already? It was bad enough that I had to invite my ex-boyfriend who looked like he was about to _kill_ someone, but I wasn't expecting that he was going to _kiss _me thirty minutes after _I. WAS. MARRIED._" Elesa snipped those three words out, and they hit Blair in his heart like three flaming bullets.

It just reminded Blair that their relationship was over; that Elesa had her heart sealed away by another man. His life was over without her.

Elesa was sobbing now, tears streaming down her face. Blair stepped closer again, but Elesa didn't show any reaction; she only slid to the floor, her legs and feet splayed beneath her, hands cupping her face to stop the tears from falling on her white dress. Her body convulsed with sobs but she managed to stammer something out.

"G-go aw-away. Go away, B-Blair. Just go."

"Elesa, I can help-" Blair said softly, in an attempt to console her.

"Damn you, Blair! You can't help. Don't you see what's happening when you 'help'? You just screw it up for everyone else! JUST LEAVE!" Elesa screeched, pounding the marble tiles underneath her.

Through the door, Blair could hear talking growing closer. He would have to leave _now._

Blair turned and gripped the brass doorknob tightly. He turned around once and murmured something to Elesa and then quickly darted outside.

A shriek escaped from the powder room.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ DO YOU MEAN YOU STILL _LOVE _ME?"

Blair simply wended through the clumps of people turning and gaping at the sight of Elesa being dragged out of the powder room, not paying attention to the spectacle happening behind him.

* * *

The elevator took Blair down to the ground floor, but he wanted it to take him straight down to the pits of hell.

* * *

Unfortunately, the elevator didn't have the capability to plunge deep into the earth to hell, so Blair had to walk through the lobby once again.

"Hell, this is better than any episode of _The Real Housewives of Castelia_ I've ever seen," a voice chimed, followed by a sympathetic click of a tongue.

"You cause that, pretty boy?" Sherry questioned as Blair passed by. He froze in his tracks and turned slowly to look Sherry in her large blue eyes.

"How do you know?" Blair spat out, jaw clenching and fingers curling into fists.

Sherry laughed once, a pretty, tinkling noise, and fingered a piece of her heavily styled red hair.

"Cameras, dumbass. You want a look?" Sherry asked pleasantly, one finger seeming to pull him closer and closer.

He shuffled closer, arms like planks by his sides, to behind the counter.

"Calm down, pretty boy. I don't bite." Sherry pointed to the computer screen and sat back in her chair.

On the screen, the room looked like a war zone. Chairs were thrown haphazardly throughout the room and wine glasses were shattered against the floor; it looked as if the room had been struck by a freak tornado made of glass. Colors reflected off the glass window overlooking the city, producing a mesmerizing effect of a never ending rainbow.

For the guests, however, they looked worse than the state of the room. Gigantic stains dotted almost all of their clothes and many of the women's hair dos were in shambles, oddly shaped and bulging out from the side of their heads like a queer tumorous growth. Blair even saw a fork sprout from one of the woman's giant bun.

In the middle of the room was Elesa crying into Flint's chest on the floor. She looked even worse than when she was in the powder room. Her hair stuck up like antennae and half of her face was ashen gray from the mascara that was heavily applied around her eyes. Her beautiful dress was in tatters, showing Blair a few private areas that **would have **made him blush.

Flint was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, cradling Elesa while slowing smoothening her hair.

In the far corner of the camera, many of the guests were cramming themselves into the elevator, quite eager to put themselves far away from the married couple. He would have to leave.

He turned and squeezed through the side of the desk, when a hand caught his forearm.

"Take my car. It's the least I can do for a fugitive who gave me a good fifteen minutes of entertainment."

"Fugitive?" Blair sighed.

"Well, hell to the yes. Do you realize how many of those people are international figures in the whole world? Those people would stop at nothing and charge you with whatever the hell they want!"

"They can't be that bad." Blair countered, prying Sherry's long fingernails from his suit jacket.

"They are. Trust me; I would know." Sherry said those last three words with such intensity that Blair immediatley believed her. She had been through a lot more than any other woman he had ever seen.

Sherry then yanked her hand off his arms and jangled a pair of jeweled car keys.

"Take 'em," she said and threw the keys into Blair's arms, "It's out back. The shiny sporty looking car. Can't miss it."

Blair ran through the lobby, shoes squeaking against the freshly waxed floor, and stopped at the entrance.

"Thanks." Blair whispered, not bothering to see whether Sherry had heard or not.

* * *

Sherry was right; Blair couldn't have missed it. It was a bright yellow Lambourghini with the roof off, the leather seats gleaming slightly in the dim moonlight. He jumped over the door (that was just how low it was), jammed the key into the ignition and turned.

The motor instantly purred to life, its headlights startling a Purrloin sifting through the garbage can sitting outside the back door.

"Well, this should be fun," Blair mused, smiling slightly.

* * *

Blair raced through the night, like a Linoone, turning ninety degrees exactly at almost every intersection. There were no cops patrolling the streets; they had enough on their hands from the constant drug wars and terrorist plots. Getting through the city would be a breeze.

Once he passed the main toll gate (he rummaged through the cluttered purse in the passenger seat and found a few dollars) leading out of the city, he was really testing this baby's strength. He flew past the dry, desert landscape, the cold air rushing through his head, the gusts brushing sand through his hair.

He felt truly alive.

Blair arrived at Nimbasa City's giant flashing toll gate and ditched the car by the side of the dusty and unlit road.

He kept the keys, though, for old memories' sake.

* * *

Keys and Pokeballs weighing down his pockets, Blair walked through Nimbasa City, with the thought of what he had done finally catching up to him. He had crashed a wedding, causing the bride to go on a psycho rampage, and had racked up thousands of dollars in damage.

The worst part was that Elesa was gone; like a leaf in a gust of wind.

Blair was over.

He wanted his life to end permanently.

But instead of hanging himself or swallowing a handful of pills, he decided to make his end a little _more _interesting.

So he walked slowly, past drunken men and groaning lovers, to Gear Station.

* * *

**A/N: Read and Review!**


	3. The Rush of Wind

Well, we _finally _meet someone else essential to the story.

* * *

Gear Station was exactly as he had remembered it; a massive room with bright, tinny music playing, with dozens of people rushing around, even during this time of night.

There was just so much noise; babies crying, rapid barking into various Transcievers, the rolling of wheels against mislaid concrete. Blair descended the stairs and walked around in a full circle before deciding to board the train headed for Anville Town. It was the last train heading out of here before Gear Station closed about half of its lines.

The line wasn't very long; there were only a few older gentleman and some burly guys with a bunch of boxes to load. Blair flashed his Gear Card (from Sherry's key bunch, thank Arceus) and boarded the train.

This was an overnight train, inferred from the bed above every pair of facing sofas. Blair glided through the cramped quarters of the first car and made his way to the back of the train, where no other passengers were.

There was a large seat near the emergency exit door and Blair fell into its arms like a young Kangaskhan would to its mother.

Blair was tired.

He fell into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

Blair awoke to a sharp, stabbing feeling in his cheek. It felt like his mouth was on fire. His eyes flashed open and he awoke to a woman's pretty blue-eyed face framed by thick and brown long hair.

"Show me your ticket." the woman ordered, eyebrows furrowed, as if she were trying to figure out something.

Blair said nothing.

"Hello," she said, drawing out the 'o' for quite some time, "I am talking to you."

Blair once again said nothing.

"Hey, this is my seat! 23!" the woman said again, pouting with her hands on her hips, her shoulder weighed down by a heavy looking Nike duffel bag.

"Strange," she whispered, eyes clouding, "Hey, mister!"

Blair looked away out the window into the blurring landscape.

"This seat is _mine! _23!" the woman yelled into the silence of the train, nothing but the clicks and clacks of the railroads surrounding them.

Blair looked up, feigned surprise, and moved to seat twenty four.

The woman bustled around, stuffing baggage under her seat and laying various other paraphernalia on the seat.

"Nobody likes the passage seat," she started, a small smile growing on her face, "But I always insist on the passage seat!"

"My logic is that my adventure doesn't end with the train!" the woman spoke again, bouncing onto her seat, with her legs pulled close to her chest.

Blair stared at the fair-skinned and slender woman in front of him.

"I am going to Anville Town." she stated simply, arms winding around her long legs.

"My family is there visting. Everyone has a family. I have one too." she announced.

Blair silently snorted. _If only you knew. . ._

He fixed his gaze to a torn hole in the fabric next to the chatty woman's head as she rambled on and on about this and that.

* * *

"Everyone says Nimbasa is crowded. What do they mean by crowded? People like _us _form the crowd." She pointed expressively to herself and Blair.

"_They _are part of the crowd. Yet they crib about it." she concluded with a thump of the seat.

Blair rolled his eyes inwardly.

* * *

"I am leaving Nimbasa forever! Do you know when I came here?"

The lady waited for a guess, but got nothing, and still continued.

"Six years!"

* * *

"Hostel hostel hostel!" she repeated, snapping her fingers with every word.

"I swear; henceforth, I will never live in a hostel again." she pledged, one hand lacing through her chocolate colored hair.

Blair was getting frustrated now, but he only clenched his fists slightly.

* * *

"I hope the road construction stops before the monsoon in Mistralton." she prattled on.

"Otherwise, do you know what will happen?" she questioned.

This girl was getting on his nerves.

* * *

"Anyway," she continued but noticed Blair getting up and moving towards the emergency door, "What happened?"

Blair said nothing, but merely opened the lock and the door.

The wind immediately flushed his face, flushing his cheeks rosy red. They were near Mistralton; the scenery was changing from lush hills and fields to craggy cliffs and mountains. They were nearing Twist Mountain; the train would go through a newly constructed tunnel in the mountain.

_Okay, on the count of one. . .two. . .three. . ._

"What are you doing?" A hand clamped on his shoulder, much like a Kingler would clamp down on its prey.

Blair turned around in a whirl.

"Last time a kid fell and died. It's really dangerous." She said nervously, with a worried look in her eyes.

Blair only stared back, as he had been doing for the past hour or so.

"Are you dumb? Can you talk?" She asked softly, motioning with her hand as if it were a sock puppet.

"Or are you shy?" She questioned, a bit louder this time. It was clear that she wanted, no, _demanded_ an answer.

"Or are you just stupid?" She yelled now, over the rush of the wind. They were in a valley now and the wind was getting intense. It was almost pulling Blair out onto the tracks.

"Something is up! I've asked three times but still no answer!" she called out.

"Ticket please!" the conducter called, tapping the woman on the shoulder.

"It's on the berth. Just wait." She told him angrily.

The conducter turned his attention to Blair.

"Excuse me, mister! Ticket please!" he said, pulling out a hole puncher.

Blair stood there, remembering he would need to buy a ticket on the train; the Gear Card only gave a discount.

"First come inside," the conducter motioned with his arm.

* * *

Okay, sorry for the long wait. It's been hard functioning with writer's block. I thought I might as well post _something_.


End file.
